By Steve Weinstein
By Rachel Kramer Bussel
By Tim Elfrink
By Sydney Brownstone
By Graham Rayman
By Graham Rayman
By Graham Rayman
By Nick Pinto
ARIES (March 21-April 19): Writing in The Week magazine, editor in chief Bill Falk reminisced about how earlier in his career he churned out three opinion columns a week for newspapers. It was tough. "The truth is," he said, "there were many weeks in which I didn't have three fresh opinions of any value." These days, he added, he couldn't handle a gig like that. As he's matured, he has become suspicious of his own certainties. "Opinions are highly overrated," he concludes. "Most concern passing phenomena that, six months or six years from now, become utterly irrelevant." I propose that we make Falk your patron saint for February, Aries. The astrological omens suggest that this is a perfect moment to enjoy the humility and grace that come from nurturing compassionate ideals instead of agitated opinions.
The Televisionary Oracle
A Novel by Rob Brezsny
A lusty but sensitive rock star encounters the leader of a goddess - worshiping religious order that values pranks as much as prayers.
Check out Rob's band World Entertainment War.
Want to know more about Rob, or look up past horoscopes? Visit freewillastrology.com.
You can contact Rob at email@example.com.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): You might want to get a history book and read up on the Greek army's defeat of the invading Persian forces at Marathon in 470 B.C. While you're at it, look into the ragtag band of Texan soldiers that won independence from Mexico at San Jacinto in 1836, or the continental army's pivotal victory over the British redcoats at Saratoga in 1777. I make these suggestions not because I think you will literally be going into battle, Taurus, but because I believe you'll soon be moved to defend and even expand your freedom. Meditating on history's successful struggles for liberation might inject an inspirational dose of martial energy into your campaign.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): You're in a phase of your yearly cycle when fate will conspire to expand your perspective, get you naturally high, and turn you into an explorer. To align yourself with these cosmic tendencies, you might want to charter a supersonic MiG-25 Foxbat plane to ferry you to the upper edge of the atmosphere, where you can see the curvature of the Earth. Other good ideas: Sail over Tanzania's Serengeti Plains in a hot-air balloon, paraglide off the sea cliffs at Oahu's Makapuu Point, or take a class in shamanism at a local yoga center.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): I predict that in 2004 you will become far more discriminating about what images and information you allow to enter the holy temple of your mind. You may even put up protective barriers that keep out the media's toxic psychic waste and your friends' bad moods. I also predict that if you don't become more discriminating, you will lose touch with your own deepest desires and end up trying to be something you're not. In conclusion, fellow Cancerian, you sure as hell better remember how naturally telepathic you are, and how easily you take on other people's feelings as if they were your own.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): After English, astrology is my second language. Like a language, it's both logical and messy; it's useful in making sense of the world, yet full of crazy ambiguities. At its best, astrology is a playful study of the metaphorical link between the human psyche and the sun, moon, and planets. It's not a science. It's an elegant system of symbols, an art form with a special capacity to feed the soul and educate the imagination. When regarded as a precise method for predicting the future or when used to pander to the ego's obsessions, it becomes a deserving target for satire. So there you have it, Leo. I've clarified the essential views that underlie all I do in this column, and that therefore color the relationship between you and me. Now I challenge you to do what I just did: Get together with the people you care about and articulate the fundamental assumptions that form the basis of your connections.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): I rarely employ my mediumistic skills, but a host of spirits were just clamoring to address you this week. So I agreed to channel five of them, on the condition that they'd be brief and to the point. Here, then, are your advisers from the other side of the veil. First, Werner von Braun: "Research is what you do when you don't know what you're doing." Second, A.A. Milne: "One of the advantages of being disorderly is that one is constantly making exciting discoveries." Next, Ralph Waldo Emerson: "Sometimes a scream is better than a thesis." Casey Stengel: "You're lost but you're making good time." Harry S. Truman: "If you can't convince 'em, confuse 'em."
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." So proclaimed science fiction writer Arthur C. Clarke in his book Profiles of the Future: An Inquiry Into the Limits of the Possible. To a medieval peasant, for instance, television would have appeared to be pure sorcery. Here's my corollary to Clarke's principle, Libra, just in time for your season of wonder and mystery: "Any sufficiently unexpected blessing is indistinguishable from a miracle."
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): "How can one's heart and brain stand all the things that are crowded into them?" wrote 19th-century composer Robert Schumann. "Where do these thousands of thoughts, wishes, sorrows, joys, and hopes come from? Day in, day out, the procession goes on." Sound familiar, Scorpio? If I'm reading the astrological omens correctly, the flood that Schumann described has recently reached tsunami proportions in you. You simply can't go on like this. As the closest thing you have to a soul doctor, I regard it as my duty to prescribe massive doses of spacious silence. Quiet your thoughts, slow down your pace, and drop out of every frenetic game, at least for now.